Posted in photography, season changes

Words for Wednesday: waiting for autumn

It’s here. All the signs are evident. The days grow shorter. The nights turn cooler. Summer flowers are fading fast. And here and there, a bright spot of color other than green appears on our trees.

My favorite season of the year is autumn. I recently noticed one of those cute signs that folks put out in their yard for fall decorating that said: “There are two times of year: autumn and waiting for autumn.”

I can agree with that. Right now, our front porch is demonstrating that thought. Our bright red petunias still bloom in the dark green porch boxes hanging on our railing, but gorgeous yellow mums stand at attention like sentries beside our front door, waiting for autumn.

The porch swing still adorns the porch and the tree swing remains suspended in the front yard. But we gleaned six pumpkins from just a couple vines in our garden patch and they grace the front sidewalk, waiting for autumn.

We visited a local pumpkin patch with our oldest grandchild to enjoy some fall fun. After meandering through a corn maze, we noticed an entire field of sunflowers were still blooming just like the ones in the photo above snapped at a Maryland lavender farm back in July. Apparently, they are waiting for autumn.

The calendar says it’s autumn…yet here we’re still waiting for it to fully arrive. Waiting for the leaves to completely transform into fall’s colored hues and that special nutty aroma that announces autumn is in session.

I’ll be patient because all good things come to those who wait.

“Go, sit upon the lofty hill, And turn your eyes around, Where waving woods and waters wild Do hymn an autumn sound. The summer sun is faint on them— The summer flowers depart— Sit still— as all transform’d to stone, Except your musing heart.” ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning, in her poem The Autumn

© 2021

Posted in Faith, season changes

Faith in the fog

blogIMG_8836Almost every morning after the sun rises in the east, they are there.

On some days, I see them clearly. Yet on other days, especially as we move into the fall season, I peer intently with a purpose to try to determine their whereabouts.

They are a flock of wild turkeys who frequent our country home yard. Flanked by a couple of adults,  the younglings try to keep up with their elders. They strut through the back yard sometimes switching back and forth between our property and our next door neighbor’s.

Other times I catch a glimpse of them as they scurry through the front expanse of grass, often coming very close to our front porch, then wander up hill, across the road and into the copse of trees there.

If it’s a bright, sunny morning, I have no problem catching sight of those creatures. But on these cooler, almost autumn daybreaks, fog settles itself into our little country valley and all I can discern are dark shapes moving through our plot of earth.

Like my own father, I try to capture wildlife in our midst with my camera. After Dad graduated into heaven, we found several photos he’d taken of critters in his yard and videos of the same as well. Like father, like daughter, I grab my camera and try to capture our visitors, although I don’t video them.

The photo at the beginning of this post shows our wild guests leisurely enjoying themselves at our place in full view. But recently, on a foggy morning, the turkeys were hard to see.

The photo below was taken with a telephoto lens yet still the misty atmosphere shrouds the subjects. It was even more difficult to see them through the fog with my own two eyes.

blogIMG_8848And that reminds me of faith in my God, Creator of both clear, sunny mornings and obscure, foggy ones.  

It’s easier to have faith in God when the sun shines, when all is right in your own little world. But when the gray days come, and they most assuredly will, when our eyesight is dim because we’re lost in a fog of troubles and trials, it’s more difficult to hang onto faith.

But that’s when we need faith even more.

Only the eyes of faith can see the “invisible, immortal God only wise” (as proclaimed in the old hymn written by Walter Smith) through the fog. 

“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” ~ 2 Corinthians 4:18 New International Version (NIV)

Living by faith is trusting in God through the murkiness of what’s in front of our eyes, knowing He’s there to love, comfort, protect, and deliver us no matter what.

I’m beginning to believe those wild turkeys visit our yard for a reason.

“Faith is like radar that sees through the fog — the reality of things at a distance that the human eye cannot see.” ~ Corrie Ten Boom


Posted in photography, season changes

When summer goes to bed

Now that’s a real flower bed!

The heat and humidity were sent packing for a couple of days this week when the leftover traces of Hurricane Florence breezed into our neck of the woods. 

My heart goes out to those who lost so much in the throes of that storm and I’m grateful to live where I do where the only after-effects we usually receive from hurricanes are a bit of rain.

I’m hoping summer is fading fast and ready to be put to bed. After all, the first official day of the autumn season is in sight.

I’ve never hidden the fact that I am not a summer lover. I’d like that season better if it was mellower and didn’t grab us, thrown us down, and hold us in a headlock of sweltering weather.

“When summer opens, I see how fast it matures, and fear it will be short; but after the heats of July and August, I am reconciled, like one who has had his swing, to the cool of autumn.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

So of course, I am more than ready for a change of season. In my book, you can’t go wrong with fall. But even saying that, there is one thing I will miss about summer.

blogIMG_4910 (2) (1)
Not my garden, but isn’t it beautiful?

The bright blooms in our flower garden, the little bursts of colorful wildflowers that grow on the sides of the roadways, and when there’s enough moisture throughout the season, the verdant color of green leaves and grass.

So before the reds, golds, oranges, and yellows of autumn start flaunting their gem-toned colors, I’ll offer up one last tribute to summer’s blossoms. One last hurrah. And then I want to send it off to dreamland.

“Summer is a promissory note signed in June, its long days spent and gone before you know it, and due to be repaid next January.” ~ Hal Borland

While Papa and I were vacationing in New England, it was still June and summer’s colors were in abundance. The lovely scent and pretty pink of sea roses along the coast of Maine caught my eye.


And the plethora of spiky purple, lavender, and pink lupine we viewed all through our travels up north garnered my attention and begged to have their photos taken.

blogIMG_4820But it’s time to say farewell to them all. And welcome to fall. And I am ready.

“When summer gathers up her robes of glory, And, like a dream, glides away.” ~ Sarah Helen Whitman